


So Glad To Meet You

by Archangelsanonymous (Pattypixie)



Series: Angeles [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Anal Sex, Architect Castiel, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Established Gabriel/Sam Winchester, M/M, Rimming, Scars, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Tattoo Artist Dean, Tattoo Artist Gabriel, Tattoo Artist Sam, Top Castiel, cas not having any of it, dean being a mouthy bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:51:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2149728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pattypixie/pseuds/Archangelsanonymous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is a world-renowned tattoo artist, who owns a tattoo parlor in San Francisco with his best friend and his brother, even though he hasn't worked on anyone in close to two years. Enter Castiel Angeles, the man who finally refuses to take any excuses Dean has to offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "Angeles" by Steve Carlson feat. Jensen Ackles. (It's a love song to Cas and no one can ever convince me otherwise. TRY. I DARE YOU.)

   “--And a good Thursday morning, San Francisco! Looks like it’s gonna be a beautiful day at a lovely 76 degrees so get--”

   Dean slammed his hand down on the alarm radio that resided on his nightstand. This was the third one he had this year and, instead of taking the chance that he’d throw it across the room like the other two, he chose to bolt it down. He let his arm fall until it was hanging off the side of his bed, fingertips brushing the hardwood floor. A groan escaped his lips and he turned his head, checking the time.

   9 AM. Dean rolled over and propped himself up on his arms, yawning. He looked over at his desk, papers scattered all over and some daring to fall off. The walls of his small, efficiency apartment were covered in half finished sketches and drawings, some he’d never dare show to the outside world. He hunched over and rubbed his face with his hands, then through his hair in an attempt to wake himself up. If he didn’t get those designs to the shop today, Gabriel would be pissed. Some big client was coming in today and had, apparently, specifically commissioned Dean to draw up the design. He flexed his hands and wiggled his toes, checking to see if they were working today. It was pretty easy, so he smiled, glad to be having a good day.

   After a motorcycle accident that had caused severe nerve damage, he had retired himself from creating art on people. While he hadn't worked on a person in close to two years, Dean Winchester was still a well known name across the country, and did some freelance work for his old shop. He didn’t need the money, but he still enjoyed creating the art and seeing people’s faces light up when he had captured exactly what they wanted. Gabriel had begged him countless times to come back to tattooing, claiming that finding people that could copy his art was like “trying to find a virgin in a whorestack”. Luckily, there were a couple “virgins” that he found, allowing the shop to still be able to remain open and very popular.

   He pulled the sheet off of his legs and swung them over the side of his bed, then got up and walked to the bathroom. His shower was quick, as they usually were, since the hot water sometimes hurt the scars on his back. One he got out, he opened the mirror, pulling out a few pill bottles, including anti-seizure meds and some amphetamines. At first, he refused to take any prescription drugs, but his doctor insisted on him taking something to help, assuring him that taking both would balance his mind out. His doctor kept suggesting opiates, but that was the one thing he wouldn’t take. The last thing he needed was medications clouding his creativity. He’d rather deal with the occasional bad day, because it made the good days that much sweeter. Dean popped the pills into his mouth and swallowed them without water, cringing a little at the taste. He threw his towel over the shower rod, then got dressed, leaving his hair to air dry.

   “Damnit…” Dean sighed, glancing at the clock, realizing he was running late and was bound to get a call from Gabriel any moment. He shuffled through the papers on his desk, gathering all the designs he had for the client. As if on cue, his phone starting ringing, playing “Highway To Hell”. He slid his finger across the phone, answering it.

   “I’m on my way.”

   “You better be! The client is already here!” Dean had to hold the phone from his face since Gabriel’s shouting was so loud.

   “Christ, Gabe. I live down the street. Untwist your panties already,” He replied, holding the phone between his head and shoulder while he put the drawings in a portfolio.

   “For the record, I’m not wearing panties today and even if I were, the only thing that would put a twist in them is your brother,” Gabriel replied, projecting his obvious grin over the phone.

   “That’s still weird as fuck, I’ll have you know,” Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed the phone with his hand. “Be there in five.” The call ended and he put the phone in his pocket. He grabbed his key and made his way out the door, locking it as he left. Down the stairs and onto the street, he made a left and walked a couple blocks until the tattoo shop came in sight.

    The storefront was pretty simple. Just a neon sign in the window saying “TATTOO” and a decal on the door that read “Winchester and Novak Ink”. Gabriel always wanted to dress it up, but Dean always shot him down. He hated drawing attention to himself, and the shop was famous as is. The bell above the door rang as he pushed it open, and a short, blonde, tattooed man practically ran to greet him.

   “Get your ass over here!” Gabriel hissed, dragging Dean in back before he had a chance to even see who was in the shop. “Let me see!” He made grabby hands toward the portfolio and Dean sighed and took the designs out.

   “I don’t get why you were so insistent on having me do back wings for this guy,” He said, handing them over. “You could have done them just as easily.”

   “Oh...no I couldn’t have,” Gabriel explained, eyes wide, marveling at the intricate work on the paper. “Trust me. Once you meet him, you’ll understand.” He looked up and grinned at Dean. “He’s also single.”

   “Dating’s not my thing, you know that,” Dean closed up his portfolio and set it down on his desk. “So, what? The usual? I go meet him, make sure he likes it, sign something, then let you or Sam tat him up?”

   “Ehhh...Something like that,” Gabriel’s grin transformed into a mischievous smirk. The second he wiggled his eyebrows, Dean knew something had to be up. Fucking Gabriel. Dean followed him out into the front of the shop, stretching his arms above his head, still a little tired.

   “Morning, Dean,” Sam mumbled, half awake, lying back in one of the chairs, arms locked behind his head. Dean was proud that his baby brother followed him into the tattooing business, having a talent for it just as he did, even if he reluctantly approved of Sam dating his best friend and business partner.

   “Sammo, you have to see these!” Gabriel brought the drawings over and handed them to Sam, who released an arm to grab the papers.

   “Oh wow,” Sam sat up and stared at his brother’s work. “Dean...These are really good.” He looked up at him, eyes wide. “I don’t know if I can duplicate this.”

   “Thanks, but I believe in you,” Dean grinned at his brother, then looked around. “Where is this guy anyway? I thought you said he was here.”

   “Yeah, I lied,” Gabriel admitted. “He did call to say he was on his way though.” As if on cue, the bell over the door rang, causing Dean to look up. In the door stood a rather sophisticated looking man, even though his black hair looked as if he just woke up. He wore a simple navy t shirt and jeans, but his very presence commanded attention. The man's blue eyes scanned the shop, his gaze finally landing on Dean, resting for the slightest moment before flicking to Gabriel.

   "Hello, Gabriel," he smiled and walked forward, holding his hand out for the shop owner to take.

   "Cas," Gabriel grabbed the man's hand, "meet Dean Winchester. Dean, my baby cousin, Castiel Angeles."

   "Your cousin, huh?" Dean snuck a sideways glance at Gabe, who was grinning like a madman, before holding his hand out to Cas. "So glad to meet you."

   "I appreciate you doing the designs for my wings," Cas said, his eyes practically sparkling as he stared at him. "I'm a huge fan of your work. I--" Cas let go of Dean's hand as he looked down and smiled. "I've been saving up for years. Ever since I found out that Gabriel worked with you."

   "Like you had to save up long," Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Cassie here owns his own company. Something called...uh..."

   "Angeles Architecture," Cas finished, "It's actually rather small but we have several high profile clients."

   "Art must run in both our families. Sam, my brother, will be doing the actual tattooing," Dean replied, as Sam stood up and walked over with the designs. "He can replicate me like no one else."

    "Do you not want to work on me?" Cas asked, tilting his head ever so slightly in confusion.

    Dean chuckled a little. "I can't," he explained. "I don't tattoo anymore. I haven't in a couple years since my accident." Cas suddenly grabbed his hands and brought them up to examine them, feeling every bone and tendon in them.

    "Structure seems intact, apart from some remodeling," Cas blurted out, flipping them so the palms were up. "Nothing that didn't heal correctly." He let one hand go and ran a finger from Dean's wrist to the top of his palm, causing somewhat of a tingle to shoot up his arm and curl his fingers slightly. "Reflexes even seem alright." Dean shot a look at Gabriel, who had a hand covering his mouth, stifling laughter.

   "Cas, he, uh, he dropped out of medical school to pursue architecture," he explained. "Wanted to be an orthopedic surgeon."

   "It's nerve damage," Dean stated, tearing his hand out of Cas’s grasp. "You just happened to catch me on a good day. Once I recovered from the accident, I knew I wouldn’t pick up a pen again."

   “Have you tried?” Cas asked, softly.

   “He has you there, Dean,” Sam agreed, smirking a little. Dean opened his mouth to protest, but he had nothing to say. It was true, he hadn’t tried tattooing since the accident. He just accepted that with his nerves being all out of whack, it would be better not to compromise his name with the possibility of messy work. With paper, he was usually okay, but he just assumed it was because if he messed up, he could just start over. With skin, any mistakes are permanent, and Dean Winchester doesn’t cover up his own work.

   “I just…I just don’t think I can do it, okay?” Dean said, crossing his arms in defense.

   “How much?” Cas blurted out, pulling out his wallet. “How much would it take you to tattoo me?”

   “Money isn’t the issue,” Dean scoffed. “I don’t want to give you a shitty tattoo.”

   “I don’t care,” Cas said, stepping forward.

   “It will take forever,” Dean argued, stepping forward as well. “At least 8 to 10 hours.”

   "I don't care."

   "This is for the rest of your life. I won't fix it or cover it."

   “I. Don’t. Care,” Cas emphasized. They stood almost nose to nose, green eyes boring into blue, each searching the other for a breaking point. Dean was stubborn, but Cas was right. Maybe all he needed was a nudge. Someone to push back at him for once and get him to stop feeling sorry for himself. After a couple moments, it was green that broke first.

   “Fine. Since you’re so fucking insistent,” Dean sighed and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. Cas grinned and Gabriel gave Sam a high-five, both of them smiling as well.

   “Thank you so much, Dean,” Cas exasperated, clearly excited.

   “Well, some ground rules first,” Dean explained, starting to count the rules with his fingers. “One, I’ll only do it after hours. I don’t want anyone knowing I’m tattooing again in case I do fuck this up. Two, I’ll only do about an hour a day, and some days, I may not be able to tattoo at all. Outline this week. Shading once that surface heals. Sound alright?”

   “I’m in San Francisco as long as you need me,” Cas said, smiling still. The corners of Dean’s mouth turned up and he couldn’t help but be a little excited that he got to work on such an attractive guy. Too bad dating clients was off the table.

   “We can start tonight when the shop closes. Eight o’clock?” Dean offered, raising his eyebrow slightly.

   “I’ll be here,” Cas said, his eyes having barely left Dean’s.

   “Well, it’s a date,” Gabriel stepped between them, grabbing Cas by the shoulder and spinning him around to face the door. “How about I take you on the town, Cas? Show you around a little?”

   “Well, I suppose, since I have some time…” Cas glanced back over his shoulder a little as he was being led out by his cousin. “See you later, Dean.”

   “Yeah, see you, Cas,” Dean replied, waving as he walked out the shop with Gabriel.

   “So,” Sam slid next to Dean and shoved him a little with his shoulder.

   “What?”

   “You. Cas. Date tonight,” Sam grinned and Dean shoved him.

   “It’s an appointment,” He amended. “Speaking of which, do you have something that needs to get touched up so I can practice?”

   “I have literally been waiting for you to ask that for two years,” Sam replied, grabbing his brother and hugging him. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

   “Hold up there, cowboy,” Dean pulled away and moved to set up his old station. “I’m not back. This is the last one I’m doing, and mostly as a favor to YOUR boyfriend.”

   “Whatever lets you sleep at night,” Sam sat down and rolled up his pant leg, exposing his calf. Dean turned around and spotted the tattoo that Sam needed touched up. It was a knife that looked like it was plunged into his ankle, blood and all.

   “Is that--?”

   “Yep. First tattoo you ever did on me,” Sam smiled as Dean sat down. It wasn’t anything near Dean’s best work, and it was done in a tiny little shop in Lawrence that barely passed health regulations, but it meant a lot to both of them.

   “You sentimental fuck,” Dean muttered, grinning anyway.

 


	2. Chapter 2

   Dean was really fucking nervous by the time 7:45 rolled around. Sure, the touch up on Sam had gone surprisingly well. He had even been able to add on a little to the design, finding that a larger grip helped steady his hand from the shaking. Sam had a smug little grin on his face afterward that Dean was very tempted to punch off. So what if he could do a touch up on his brother? Cas was a paying customer, and a complete stranger. Not to mention he couldn’t get those blue fucking eyes out of his head all afternoon. Dean scanned his area once more, triple checking to make sure he had everything. He held up the stencil to his design for what seemed like the fiftieth time to make sure he was getting it just right.

   “Relax, Dean,” Sam said from his seat behind the register counter. Since they had pretty much closed the shop for the day, Sam took the downtime to do some bookwork that Gabriel constantly neglected.

   “I’m just making sure I have everything right,” Dean replied, pulling the design to his face to inspect it better. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Sam shaking his head and smiling at the papers in his hands. The bell on the door jingled and Dean brought the design down so he could see. Cas walked in first with Gabriel trailing behind him, laughing.

   “Okay, but telling that tour guide that he was ‘Frank Lloyd _Wrong_ ’ was both the most amazing and nerdy thing I have ever heard in my life,” Gabriel gasped, making his way around the counter and planting a kiss on Sam’s cheek.

   “Well, he was,” Cas shrugged his shoulders. “If you’re going to serve as a tour guide in the city, you should probably know who built the buildings.”

   “I take it you guys had a fun day?” Sam asked, smiling down at his boyfriend.

   “Oh yes,” Gabriel responded. “And we,” he made a gesture indicating him and Sam, “are going to have a fabulous night involving sushi, a box of wine, and amazing sex.”

   “Please, you’re just drowning me in romance,” Sam rolled his eyes, but grinned as he wrapped his arm around Gabriel’s shoulder. “I suppose we will leave you two to it, then.” He lead Gabriel around the counter and out of the shop, the bell ringing as they left.

   “So, I should just…” Cas set his bag down and gestured toward the chair after a few moments of silence.

   “Uh, yeah,” Dean’s ears reddened as he set the designs down. “Just take off your shirt and lay on your stomach.” Cas turned away and reached behind him to grab the collar of his shirt. He pulled it up over his head and Dean’s mouth went dry almost instantly. Those back muscles were nothing less than the work of God and he suddenly felt even more self conscious about his design. Was it fit to go on a body such as that? Unconsciously scanning his body, Dean noticed that Cas had other tattoos, including some kind of sigil on his pectoral and a couple lines of text on his ribs. The sigil he recognized, since Gabriel had the same one. As for the text, it was in an unfamiliar language, and he made a note to ask about it later. Dean sat down on his stool to the side of the chair where Cas laid down, head on his hands.

   “Do you need anything?” Dean asked. “Some water? A pillow?”

   “A pillow would be nice,” Cas turned his head and smiled. “Thank you, Dean.”

   “Yeah, sure,” He got up and went in the back, grabbing a water bottle for himself and the pillow for Cas. The thought of seeing Cas lay on a pillow in his bed ran through his mind for a second, but Dean quickly dismissed it. For one, he had a rule about sleeping with clients, and two...No one wanted to date someone who couldn’t even get out of bed some days, and not in the good way. He stepped out of the back and handed Cas the pillow, who put it under his hands.

   “So, before we get started, I want to make sure that you like the design,” Dean said, sitting down, then swiveling the stool to grab the paper.

   “Gabriel assured me it was your best work,” Cas said, propping himself up on his elbows.

   "Yeah, well I could tattoo a stick figure on your cousin, and he would call it a masterpiece," Dean scoffed. "I want to make sure that _you_ like it." He held up the design and Cas gave a barely audible gasp. "It will be done in reverse for the other side."

   "They're beautiful," Cas reached out a hand to trace a couple fingers along the detail of the feathers. Dean couldn't help but grin at Cas's awestruck expression.

    "Well, I'm glad you like them," he said, turning to set the design down. "Saves me the trouble of having to redo them." Dean chuckled a little and put on a pair of black gloves. “Alright, so, I’m going to start with the part of the wing that’s on your right arm tonight. I’ll do the other arm tomorrow so it gives this arm a little time to heal, then the right back piece, then the left, and you get the jist.” He grabbed a bottle and an alcohol wipe, then turned back toward Cas. The jar was set on the small table next to him and he opened the wipe.

   “Oh, that’s cold,” Cas laughed a little as his bicep was cleaned. Dean smiled and threw the used cloth in a small trash can next to the chair. He opened the bottle and squirted a bit of white liquid into his gloved hand, then rubbed it onto Cas’s arm. Bending down a little, he blew lightly onto Cas’s skin, his eyes snapping open when he heard a small gasp come from his client. Cas’s eyes were closed, but his breathing was obviously hitched.

   “Sorry…” Dean said softly, pulling his face away. “I wanted it to dry quickly.”

   “It’s fine,” Cas finally breathed. “I just wasn’t expecting it.” Dean smiled to himself as he grabbed the bottle and turned back to his station, putting it away and grabbing the stencil.

   “Ready?” Dean asked, turning back around and holding up the paper. “I’ll have you take a look after I put it on, just in case.”

   “I’m gonna love it, Dean,” Cas reiterated. “You don’t need to keep checking with me.”

   “Hey, I have a good reason to be nervous, okay?” Dean retorted, taking a deep breath. “Now, hold still so I don’t get any wrinkles.” He placed the stencil on Cas’s arm and pressed down with his hands, letting the heat from their combined bodies transfer the design onto skin. After a minute or so, Dean took his hands away and smoothed the paper a little before slowly pulling the paper off. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding once he saw that the stencil had transferred flawlessly. Once more spin on his stool and he threw the paper out, then grabbed a mirror to hold above Cas’s arm.

   “So?”

   Cas looked up and a grin broke out on his face. “It looks great,” he assured Dean.

   “Awesome,” He replied, putting the mirror down. Dean grabbed a wet paper towel and laid it on the stencil, patting it down to soak up some of the excess ink. He balled it up when he was done and threw it out. Dean took a deep breath. This was it. He picked up the gun, already filled with black ink. He could do this. Just like on Sam. No problem.

   “Dean?” Cas looked over and saw the fear on the artist’s face. He moved his hand over and placed it on Dean’s thigh, causing him to look over. Cas smiled softly and Dean seemed to relax. “You’re going to do great.”

   He let the heat from Cas's hand sink in and relax him, and allowed himself to smile back. Cas was right. He would do great. He was Dean Winchester, after all.

   "Here goes," Dean sighed as he put the needle to Cas's skin and pressed his foot down on the pedal. Cas flinched a little at the slight jolt of pain, but the feel of Dean’s jeans under his palm calmed him. He moved his thumb against the fabric, slowly, in an attempt to relax Dean as well.

   Dean chose to remain quiet as he worked, stopping and wiping as he needed. He was never usually one for a lot of chatting while he worked, unlike Gabriel, and he stayed especially quiet now, since he had to concentrate. Cas’s hand on his thigh did help, even if the little squeeze he gave every time Dean put the needle to his skin made his heart race just a little faster.

   “Doing alright?” Dean asked, about a half-hour in, still continuing to work.

   “Just fine,” Cas smiled. “How’s it going up there?”

   “Not bad, but I think we may need to stop soon.”

   “Are you in too much pain?”

   “No...I’m, uh, running out of stencil,” Dean chuckled a little. “Maybe I’ll have to make tomorrow’s a little larger.” He wiped Cas’s skin one last time and set the pen down to pick up the mirror. “Well, first thoughts?”

   Cas looked over and reluctantly took his hand off of Dean’s thigh. He sat up a little and ran his other hand along the reddened skin. It burned a little, but he just had to touch it. “I can’t wait until it’s finished. It looks so good already,” he responded, grinning.

   “It looks great on you,” Dean let slip out, causing him to spin around to his station, avoiding Cas seeing him blush. “Alright, well, let me just get this on you, then you can head out.” He tuned back once he had his gloves off and pigment under control, holding a small bottle of ointment and a bandage. “You know the deal, keep it on until the morning.” He rubbed the ointment lightly on the tattoo, worried about hurting Cas, then covered the tattoo with the bandage and taped it down. Once the bandage was on, Cas turned over and sat up, lifting his arms above his head and stretching a bit. Dean barely resisted the urge to run his fingers along Cas’s bare chest and stomach, but couldn’t help letting his eyes trail along the lean muscle.

   “So, same time tomorrow?” Cas asked, letting his arms fall, then lift him up out of the chair.

   “Uh, yeah,” Dean licked his lips and looked away. “I’ll be here. Oh, and don’t forget this.” He grabbed the bottle of ointment and stood up, handing it to Cas, who had finally put his shirt back on.

   “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Cas said, grabbing the bottle and turning to go.

   “Yeah,” Dean replied, following him to the door. “Have a good night.” He opened the door and Cas nodded as he walked out. Dean closed the door and locked it, then turned to shut off the lights when he heard a soft knocking on glass. He looked back and saw Cas, pointing at the ground over by his station. Turning his head, he saw it. Castiel’s bag. Dean chuckled a little as he grabbed it, then walked it over to the doors.

   “I think you did that on purpose so you’d have an excuse to come back,” He commented after opening the locks and cracking the door just enough to stick the bag through.

   “So what if I did?” Cas smiled as he grabbed his bag. “I did have a question.”

   “Lay it on me.”

   “Would you like to get breakfast tomorrow?”

   “What?” Dean was a little dumbfounded. Was Cas...?

   “I was thinking 9:30,” Cas continued. “The small cafe around the corner.”

   “I...I don’t date clients,” Dean informed regretfully. “I’m sorry, Cas.”

   “I never said a date,” Cas smirked. “Just breakfast.”

   “Just breakfast?” Dean smiled a little.

   “Just breakfast,” Cas repeated. Dean looked down and chuckled a little.

   “Well, I’ll see you at 9:30 then,” He grinned, finally letting the bag go through the door. “Goodnight, Cas.”

   “Goodnight, Dean,” Cas grinned back and shouldered his bag, turning to walk away. Dean watched a little as Cas made his way down the street before locking the store back up again. He smiled as he cleaned up the shop, thinking about the morning and “just breakfast”.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

    Dean took a deep breath as he walked into the small cafe. Even though he lived a block away, he had never been to it before. Cafes weren't usually his thing, but they were Cas's thing, and who was he to say no. He spotted a hand waving to him over near the corner, and walked towards it. Cas wore a cream, linen button down and beamed as Dean sat down, passing him a cup of coffee.

    "I wasn't sure how you take it, so I just had them leave room for cream and sugar," He explained, taking a sip of his own coffee.

    "Just black is fine. Thanks, Cas," Dean smiled up at the man then took a sip. His eyes widened at the taste and he took another drink. "Wow. This is really good."

    "Yeah, I come here every time I'm in town," Cas commented. "Have you never been?"

    "Well, I've seen it," Dean said, taking another sip. "Just never had a reason to come here until now." He looked up at Cas and smiled. "So, I'm curious. Why leave medical school for architecture?"

    "Its the perfect mix between art and science," Cas explained, his eyes lighting up. "It's a never ending puzzle between beauty and physics, and I love to push myself to see what I can do. People don't really see how precise it has to be. Just an inch off and an entire building can come collapsing down. It's pushing the limits of that that I find so enjoyable." Cas took a breath and blushed. "I'm sorry. I tend to ramble."

    "No, its fine," Dean reassured him. "I was the one who asked." He had to take a sip of coffee before he blurted out that it was beautiful. The passion that was present in Cas's face just made him that much more irresistible, and Dean knew exactly how screwed he was.

    "Plus, I kinda hated medical school," Cas laughed a little. "It's not that I was having trouble, it's that I had no passion for it. To be honest, it was more my father's dream than anything. He wanted a family of doctors, but I was more into creating things than fixing them. The stories I have about legos..." They both laughed when a short, portly waitress came to the table.

    "What can I get for you boys?" She asked, smiling softly.

    "Just an egg white omelette and a glass of grapefruit juice for me," Cas ordered, smiling back.

    "Two eggs, scrambled, and order of bacon, still squealing, and some crispy hash browns," Dean recited, causing the waitress to grin.

    "Don't get many of you good ol midwestern boys out here," she commented, writing the order down. "That'll be right up for you." She walked away and Cas raised an eyebrow at Dean.

    "Exactly how soon do you plan to get a coronary?" Cas asked, laughing a little.

    "I won't apologize for wanting to enjoy my food," Dean replied, grinning.

    "You're not really the type to apologize for anything," Cas mused. "So, what did she mean, 'midwestern boy'?"

    "Gabe didn't tell you?" Dean asked, to which Cas shook his head. "Sam and I are from Kansas. Lawrence, to be exact."

    "How did you end up out here?"

    "Well, Sam and I were always talented artists growing up," Dean recalled. "We immersed ourselves in it after mom died and dad fell in love with a bottle. The local tattoo shop gave me a job as soon as I turned 16, even though I could only design and make stencils, not work on people. They still taught me how to use a gun, and I did my first tattoo on the owner there, Bobby. He was like a dad to Sam and I. Once I graduated high school, I came out here for art school, where I met your cousin. I worked in a small shop over on Height for some extra cash, but people started coming to specifically get my work done. I was so in demand that I had to drop art school, but, as you can see, it was worth it. I saved up my money, and once Sam graduated, I sent him to college. He majored in art but minored in business. I wanted Bobby to join us out here, but he refused, saying that he was too old and rough for California." Dean laughed a little. "He was right, though. Would have never fit in. Anyway, Sam had the schooling and learned some stuff from Bobby, plus Gabriel was always badgering me to go solo, so we saved up some more and opened the shop we have now." The food came as Dean finished talking and they thanked the waitress.

    "Talk about a rags to riches story," Cas commented, taking a bite of his omelette.

    "Yeah, the local magazines and newspapers ate it up when our shop opened," Dean replied, ripping off a chunk of bacon with his teeth.

    "There's just one thing I don't understand," Cas admitted, punctuating with his fork. Dean put some eggs in his mouth and hummed in confusion. "How on earth did Gabriel and your brother end up together?" Dean had to put his arm up to his mouth to avoid spitting egg onto the table from laughing. He eventually was able to swallow, but kept chuckling a bit.

    "I wish I had the answer to that one," He said. "It was after Sam finished college and came to work at the shop. Honestly, it was kind of cute. Sam knew he was bi, but had never really been with a guy before and Gabriel, being Gabriel, had done anything with a warm hole. I don't know what my brother did, but it was like Gabriel reverted back to a virgin. He was shy around Sam, and would blush whenever he smiled for months. Eventually, Gabriel came to me, asking about him, and I promptly said no, of course. Sam was actually the one to make the first move, which Gabriel later recounted to me, and please god, don't ask me to repeat it."

    "Don't worry," Cas reassured him, laughing. "I don't think I want to know either." They ate the rest of their food, chatting lightly over it, recalling fun facts about Lawrence, or San Francisco. Dean would occasionally catch himself staring at Cas, and having to force himself to look down at his food. How could he help it when the man's eyes would somehow get an even brighter blue when he smiled. It was frustrating that he was giving Gabriel the satisfaction of being very into his cousin, but it was proving very difficult to not be.

    "So, what are you up to today, Dean?" Cas asked, laying his silverware on the finished plate in front of him.

    "I was just going to go back to my place," He sighed. "Work on some commissions before working on you tonight."

    "That doesn't sound very exciting at all," Cas smirked and grabbed the check as he stood up.

    "Ah, well, it's just every day for me," Dean stood up as well and pulled out his wallet. "What do I owe you?"

    "A day around the city," Cas answered, quickly, raising an eyebrow.

    "Cas, I told you--"

    "It's not a date," He explained. "You're just showing your best friend's cousin around. Gabriel already said he had to reschedule a lot of his appointments from yesterday to today, so he has no time to take me. I can't just wander around the city by myself." He paid the bill and turned back to Dean for his answer. Dean wasn't sure what to say. Every facet of his being wanted to take him out. It was true that he couldn't just leave Cas to just roam around and probably get lost in the city. Cas had a cell phone though, he could just call if he needed help. It was bad enough that he agreed to breakfast. Yeah, Cas could be different, but why take the chance? He was over taking chances and getting his heart broken again.

    "I, uh," Dean swallowed and his expression hardened. "I can't. I have deadlines." He turned away quickly before he had a chance to see Cas's disappointed expression and change his mind. "Thanks for breakfast. I'll see you at the shop later." He walked away, not even registering if Cas responded or not. It was better that this stopped early, since it shouldn't have started in the first place.

    Dean walked quickly back to his apartment, not even chancing a look back, because he knew he'd turn right around if he did. The door latched behind him and backed up to it, sinking down to the floor. He put his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair. Why was this so hard? He fended off advances all the time and never had a problem. As different as Cas seemed, it wasn't worth him leaving once he found out just how broken Dean was. He stood up and walked over to his iPod, turning on some music to drown out his thoughts as he worked. Drawing helped him for a bit, glad to be thinking about something else as he passed the afternoon. As much as he tried, black hair, blue eyes, and wings eventually seeped into his pen and onto the paper. Dean caught himself drawing Cas or his wing design at least twice, promptly balling up the paper and throwing it towards the trash. He cursed himself and shook his head each time. Who the hell gets hung up on an architect?

    The alarm on his phone went off as he was doodling out a concept for Sam's birthday present, signaling it was 7 o'clock. One hour before his session with Cas. He sighed and set his pen down, having half a mind to cancel. The idea was quickly dismissed after reminding himself that he had committed to the job, and he refused to leave his work not even half done. He grabbed his things, and quickly headed to the shop.

    When Dean arrived, Cas was already there, talking to Gabriel as he sifted through various receipts and papers from the day. From what he could tell, everything seemed okay, Cas even greeting him with a smile. Dean relaxed a little, glad that things wouldn't be awkward.

    "You know, you guys can stay if you want," Dean offered, getting set up as Gabriel and Sam grabbed their bags.

    "And waste two fantastic weeks of not having to clean up the shop?" Gabriel laughed. "No thanks."

    "I was gonna start staying when you started the shading," Sam shrugged. "Outlines are a little boring."

    "Yeah, yeah," Dean smiled and put on his gloves. "Get out of here." They waved goodbye and exited, leaving Dean and Cas alone. Whatever tension that had left the room, immediately returned as Cas's eyes turned on him. Dean looked away quickly, finding it hard to breathe.

    "Another pillow tonight?" He asked, walking in the back before receiving an answer. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought. After taking a deep breath, he walked out with the pillow and two water bottles. Cas was laying on the chair already, and Dean handed him the pillow before stopping to check his work from the day before. The area was still a little red, but scabbing had already started. He almost ran his fingertips across it, but stopped himself. Any out of line touch, and he knew he would break.

    "Alright. Same deal as yesterday," Dean said, walking around and sitting on his stool. Cas nodded and continued staring forward, preferring to stay silent. Dean repeated the process from the day before on the opposite arm, cleaning the area, then placing the stencil. He didn't check with Cas as much this time, avoiding as much contact as possible. A warning was given before he started work on actually tattooing, but apart from that, he worked in silence. Usually, Dean wouldn't have minded, but it felt much colder than before, especially with the loss of Cas's hand on his thigh. He worked as quickly and as focused as he could, not giving himself time to change his mind. Before he knew it, he had run out of stencil, and he gave the tattoo one last wipe. He put the gun down, then treated the area before putting a bandage on it.

    "All finished for tonight," Dean finally said, breaking the quiet and throwing out his gloves. Cas turned and sat up, putting his shirt back on as Dean cleaned up his station. After a few minutes, Dean noticed Cas still sitting there, staring at him.

    "You can go if you want," he said, a little harsher than he meant.

    "I don't want to," Cas replied. "We need to talk, Dean."

    "About what?" Dean asked, feigning ignorance, and standing up. "I assumed you knew how to take care of a tattoo from your others."

    "Don't be an idiot," Cas narrowed his eyes and stood up as Dean crossed to put his equipment away in the back. "Why are you so insistent on not having anything to do with me?"

    A million excuses ran through Dean's head when Cas asked, never alluding to a real reason. "I don't date clients," he repeated, coming out of the back.

    "Don't give me a bullshit excuse this time," Cas insisted. "You wouldn't have come this morning if you really had a rule against seeing clients."

    "Generally, the client isn't my best friend's cousin," Dean explained, grabbing his bag and walking toward the door. "And breakfast usually comes after the kind of date they want."

    "So, you admit that I'm different," Cas shouldered his bag and followed Dean out the door.

    "Like family is different," Dean locked the shop once Cas was out.

    "I'm pretty sure you don't look at family the way you look at me," Cas smirked. Dean sighed and started walking to his apartment.

    "It doesn't matter. I don't date anyone," Dean admitted, once he realized Cas was following.

    "Why?" Cas asked. "Is no one good enough for the great Dean Winchester?"

    "Are you going to follow me all the way home?" Dean spat, feeling a surge of anger after that last comment.

    "If that's what it takes to get a word of truth out of you," Cas replied.

    "This is basically harassment," Dean threatened. "I could have you arrested."

    "Then call the cops," Cas refused to call his bluff. "Tell me that some part of you doesn't want me, and I'll put the handcuffs on myself." Dean stopped and turned when he reached the door leading up to his apartment. Both of them were panting, out of breath from fighting and walking.

    "I do," Dean finally admitted. "God, do I want you, but you're not the problem."

    "Then what is it?" Cas demanded.

    "It's me, Cas!" Dean yelled "I'm broken! Damaged goods! Its not a problem the first time I wake up and can't move, but eventually everyone realizes what I already knew. It takes too much effort to care about me, so just--"

    "Shut up," Cas breathed, rushing forward and crashing his lips into Dean's. His entire body was on fire as he allowed Cas access to the rest of his mouth. A soft moan escaped him when Cas pulled away to catch his breath.

    "Upstairs. Now," Cas commanded, his eyes blown so far, the blue was barely visible anymore. Dean nodded and unlocked the door, stumbling a little as Cas pushed him through it and up the stairs. Cas stopped them in the hallway, forcing Dean against the wall and kissing him desperately. Dean's hips moved against Cas's, and they both gasped at the friction.

    “Cas,” the name rolled off Dean’s lips as the man kissed down his neck, pulling at his tee shirt to suck a mark into his collarbone. “This--I’m...”

    “I don’t care,” Cas whispered into his ear. “I don’t care what you think you are.” He reached down, grabbed the wrist that was holding Dean’s keys, and pulled it up. “Now, open the door, unless you want your neighbors to hear you getting fucked in the hallway.” Dean whined at Cas’s words, then rolled away from him to shakily open the door to his apartment. He quickly got it open and pulled Cas inside, letting their bags hit the ground as they came together again. Cas pulled up on Dean’s shirt, urging it up over his head, craving the expanse of tanned skin marked by freckles, scars, and tattoos. Dean reluctantly pulled away, lifting his arms and letting Cas pull it off, revealing skin that hadn’t been seen by another person in close to a year.

    “You’re so beautiful,” Cas blurted out, running his fingertips across Dean’s skin, stopping to circle the pentagram on his chest and run lines along the barrels of twin colts on his hips. Dean leaned into Cas’s touch, biting his lip a little as his fingers dipped below his waist band, where the ends of the barrels were hidden. He surged back into Cas, claiming his mouth, needing him. Needing whatever this was. Cas guided him backwards to the bed, falling on top once the mattress hit the back of Dean’s knees. Dean’s fingers came up to unbutton Cas’s shirt, swearing as he fumbled with them, too small for his damaged nerves to feel properly.

    “Shh...I got it,” Cas breathed against Dean’s lips. He held himself up with one hand as the other came up to undo his buttons swiftly with nimble fingers. Dean sighed and laid his head back on the comforter, embarrassed that he couldn’t even undo a couple buttons. Cas finished and pressed his newly exposed chest against Dean’s. He kissed up his neck and along his jaw, rubbing their stubble together. “Stop sulking. You’ve got a sexy guy in your bed, ready to pound you into the mattress, and you’re upset about not being able to undo some buttons?”

    Dean chuckled and ran his hands up and over Cas’s chest, removing his shirt all the way. “Fair point,” he conceded, lifting his head a little to capture Cas’s lips again. Cas tugged on Dean’s bottom lip before pulling away to trail kisses down his chest. He caught a nipple with his tongue, swirling and sucking while Dean gasped and writhed underneath him.

    “Ever think of getting these pierced?” Cas asked, turning his attention to the other one. “I bet you’d love the feeling, and it’d be so fucking hot.” A shiver went down Dean’s spine at the thought. He’d never thought about it before Cas, but fuck. He’d do anything for the blue-eyed bastard at this point. Cas’s mouth left them red and wet before continuing down his stomach, licking down to his waistband. His jeans were straining against his cock, begging to be released, especially with Cas’s mouth so close.

    “Fuck...please, Cas,” Dean moaned as Cas mouthed at the denim bulge. He hummed against the fabric, then sat up a little to undo the button and fly. Cas grabbed Dean’s jeans and boxer briefs by the waistband and pulled them down slowly, like he was unwrapping a present and didn’t want the anticipation to be over quite yet. Dean groaned at the fabric being slowly dragged off of his cock and gasped when it finally sprang free, bouncing up and hitting his stomach, leaving behind a drop of precome.

    “You look fucking delicious,” Cas licked his lips a little at the sight, Dean flushed and hard under him, and couldn’t help but palm himself a bit through his jeans. “Bet you taste so good.” He kneeled down and kissed up the inside of Dean’s thighs. His left hand covered a large tattoo paying homage to Led Zeppelin, an outline of the angel with all the symbols underneath. Cas licked up Dean’s length, stopping at the tip to suck a bit of liquid out. Dean bucked his hips a little as Cas looked up at him, a satisfied smile on his face. He moaned as Cas descended on him, taking as much as he could. His cheeks hollowed and Cas sucked as his tongue explored every ridge and vein with Dean’s noises encouraging him.

    Cas reached a hand up, putting a couple fingers to Dean’s lips to get them wet. Dean’s tongue shot out immediately to guide them to his mouth so he could slick them up as much as possible. God, it had been so long since Dean had been with someone. Most of the time, he didn’t even bother, afraid that he would get attached.

    _“Cas is different. Cas will be different,”_ He recited like a mantra in his head. _“Cas has to be different.”_ He barely noticed when Cas removed his fingers from Dean’s mouth, but gasped when he felt one circle his hole. With that single touch, he was nearly pushed over the edge, thrusting up into Cas’s mouth. Cas seemed to be able to take it, moaning and moving slightly with Dean’s thrust to take more of him. A couple more circles and thrusts and he was coming, calling Cas’s name as he shot his load into the back of his throat. Cas swallowed it down and licked up the rest, careful to get every drop.

    “So perfect,” he purred, climbing up back up Dean’s body and kissing him. The taste of his come was still in Cas’s mouth as he licked it out of him. Dean groaned as he felt the denim of Cas’s jeans rub against his spent cock.

    “How are you still wearing pants?” Dean mumbled, still a little blissed out.

    “Been waiting for you, baby,” Cas smiled, pulling himself off of Dean. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted to fuck you.” He lifted Dean’s legs up off the edge of the bed and pushed him up. “That’s if you’ll let me, of course.” Cas looked up at Dean, eyes wide, and there was no way he could say no. He wanted to feel something. He wanted to feel Cas, and God, he would probably feel him for days. He needed it. Dean nodded, and Cas grinned.

    “Lube and condoms in the nightstand,” Dean provided. Cas walked over and grabbed the small bottle out of the drawer, then stuck a condom in his back pocket for safe keeping. He circled back around the bed and climbed up on it, in between Dean’s legs.

    “Turn over,” Cas commanded, placing a kiss on the inside of Dean’s knee.

    “I’d, um…” Dean clenched his jaw a little and looked down. “I’d rather do it this way.”

    “It would be much easier to open you up the other way,” Cas looked up and his eyes pleaded for him. “Please, Dean. I want to taste every inch of you.” Dean’s breath hitched at the way Cas said his name, making him very eager to please the man. He was very self-conscious of his body since the accident, but he turned over slowly, holding his breath as he waited for Cas’s reaction.

    “Dean...” Cas gasped, finally getting a view of Dean’s back. It was covered in what used to be a tattoo of wings, the feathers trailing down each side of his spine and ending just above his hips. Unfortunately, the work was ruined by scars from the accident, replacing a lot of the inked skin with raised scar tissue. Cas ran his fingertips softly down Dean’s tattoo, being careful with the sensitive skin. “You had wings, too. Why did you never get them redone?”

    “I couldn’t,” Dean replied softly, shuddering a little at Cas’s touch. “I had them done only a couple months before the accident and...I took it as a sign that I wasn’t meant to fly.”

    “Promise me something,” Cas insisted, kissing lightly down Dean’s spine. “Promise me you’ll get them retouched.”

    “Why?” Dean sharply inhaled as Cas spread his cheeks and licked across his hole.

    “Because if I’m going to fly, I want you soaring next to me,” Cas whispered, his breath ghosting over Dean’s skin. Dean whined as Cas started to lick him, unsure if the tears in his eyes were due to emotion or sensation. Anytime anyone had asked him to have them redone, it was only for aesthetics. So they would look better. Cas was the first one to ever make it about the real reason he had gotten them in the first place. He wanted to fly again, and Cas was who would get him back off the ground.

    “Yes...Fuck! I promise,” Dean moaned, hardening again fast as Cas opened him. “Just don’t stop.” Cas had found it comfortable to start adding a finger to accompany his tongue, slowly pushing in one knuckle at a time. Dean pushed back against it, urging the finger in deeper. Cas brought his middle finger up and pulled his face away, choosing instead to watch himself work. The finger slipped in easily next to the first, and Cas bit his lip at the feel of Dean’s muscles clenching around them.

    “God, you’re going to feel so good, Dean,” Cas ran his other hand up Dean’s side and leaned over him, kissing the back of his neck. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” Dean gasped as Cas ran his fingers across his nipple, and shoved back against his hand. Cas curled the fingers in Dean, hitting his prostate as he pushed back.

    “Cas!” Dean ducked his head, panting. “C’mon! Fuck me already.”

    “You’re not ready,” Cas replied, smiling at Dean’s eagerness.

    “That’s what the fucking lube is for,” Dean breathed. “Now, hurry up before I grab a dildo and do it myself.” Cas moaned at the visual that appeared in his head at Dean’s words, and quickly withdrew his fingers.

    “You have to let me watch that sometime,” Cas undid his jeans swiftly and pulled them down with his boxers, hissing at his cock being exposed to the air. He grabbed the condom out of his back pocket before discarding his jeans on the floor, ripped it open, and rolled it on. Dean bit his lip as Cas poured a line of cold lube in his crack, but massaged it in until it reached body temperature. Cas climbed back onto the bed and parted Dean’s legs with his knees, moving closer until his cock was putting pressure on Dean’s ass.

    “If it’s too much, just--”

    “I know how fucking works.”

    “You’re so damn mouthy,” Cas shoved into him quickly, causing Dean to cry out and almost collapse.

    “Shit!” Dean gasped for air as the burning slowly faded, his ass accommodating Cas’s rather large prick.

    “You learn your lesson?” Cas grinned, his breathing ragged with the sensation of Dean’s tight ass around him.

    “Never,” Dean leaned forward, forcing Cas to move. Cas’s grip on Dean’s hips tightened as he pulled him back, fucking into him without hesitation. Dean moaned throughout, swearing that he would tattoo over the bruises Cas left on his sides so he would never forget how good this felt. Cas draped over Dean as he felt himself getting close, thrusting up into Dean’s prostate.

    "Fuck, Dean..."

    "Touch me, Cas. Please..." Cas's hand closed around Dean, only stroking a couple times before he was coming over the sheets, reciting Cas's name like a prayer. Riding the wave of Dean's orgasm, Cas came soon after, digging his fingertips into Dean's sides. The condom filled up inside him and Dean moaned at the added pressure. He collapsed down onto the wet sheets and Cas followed, pulling out and rolling over onto his back. Cas lazily pulled the condom off, tied it, and threw it in the trashcan by the bed.

    "You 'right?" Cas slurred, surprised at his ability to speak at all. Dean groaned and turned his head so he was facing Cas. His eyes traced Cas's face, committing every single line and pore to memory. He wanted to remember those eyes for the rest of his life.

    "That was amazing," Cas sighed, pulling Dean over to lay on top on him. He ran his hands through Dean's hair and kissed his forehead until Dean looked up to give him a kiss on the lips.

    "So much for my clean sheets," Dean mumbled, laying his head back on Cas’s chest.

    "I'll buy you new ones in the morning," Cas chuckled.

    "And coffee," Dean added. "Definitely coffee."

    "Goodnight, Dean," Cas kissed the top of his head once more before leaning his head back and closing his eyes. They both fell asleep quickly, lulled by each others breathing and soft strokes.


	4. Chapter 4

   Dean awoke to the sound of water running in the sink, and smiled, glad that Cas hadn't left. He started to roll over, eager to breathe in the pillow that Cas had slept on, then let out a cry of pain.

   "Dean!" Cas left the water on and ran over to the bed, throwing the covers off of Dean.

   "Its--" Dean panted a little, trying to work through the jolts of pain travelling up his spine. "Its fine. Just...in the bathroom...theres a bottle...green cap. Bring me two."

   Cas hurried into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. There were a million pill bottles in there, but only one with a green cap. He grabbed it then went back out into the living room.

   "Do you need some water or anything?" Cas asked, opening the bottle and pouring out two white pills a little smaller than dimes.

   "No, just give them here," Dean held out a shaky hand in which Cas deposited the pills. He popped them in his mouth quickly, and chewed them a little before swallowing them down. "Ugh okay. Maybe some water." Cas went back to the sink and rinsed a glass before filling it with water. He brought the glass over and put it to Dean’s mouth, tilting it a little so he could drink. Once Dean was able to hold the glass himself, Cas looked down at the bottle he was holding and read the label.

   “Oxycodone?” Cas raised an eyebrow. “This is some really strong stuff, Dean.”

   “I have some really strong pain sometimes,” Dean winced, setting the empty glass down on the nightstand. “Last night didn’t exactly help.”

   Cas sat down on the edge of the bed and put the bottle down next to the glass. “You know, I could have been gentler,” He said, running his fingers through Dean’s hair.

   “No, it’s fine,” Dean sat up, the opiates starting to kick in. “I didn’t want you to. People always treat me like I’m made of porcelain.”

   “Well, considering you woke up like this, maybe they should,” Cas sighed in concern.

   Dean threw the rest of the covers off of himself and turned away, avoiding what would surely end up in a fight. God, it was only one night and things were already starting to fall apart. He was stupid to think that Cas was any different. “Maybe you should just go,” Dean suggested, coldly.

   “Dean, I…”Cas stood up as Dean got out of bed.

   “I knew this was a bad idea,” Dean sighed, slipping his discarded boxers back on.

   “You’re serious?” Cas’s jaw dropped as Dean walked past him to open the door.

   “It was fun, Cas,” He stiffened up and held the door open, waiting for Cas to grab his things. “I just don’t think it will work out.”

   “Of course you don’t,” Cas stood in front of Dean and pushed the door closed again. “I’m sorry I said what I said, but I want this, and I know deep down under all that baggage, you do too.”

   Dean shifted his feet a bit as Cas got in his space. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” he argued. “Maybe you don’t see it now, but someday you’ll realize that I’m not worth it. Everyone does.”

   “Not Sam. Not Gabriel,” Cas reached up and held Dean’s face in his hands. “Not everyone will leave, and I want to prove that to you. I know the accident is a sensitive topic, but you have to let me stay stupid stuff and learn from my mistakes.” He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Dean’s. “Just trust yourself the smallest bit to give me a chance, and I’ll do the rest. I promise.”

   Dean reached his hands out and placed them on Cas’s hips, unsure whether to pull him closer or push him away. “Cas, I--” He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. “I don’t know if--”

   “I know you’re scared, Dean,” Cas reassured him. “I’m scared, too.” He smiled quickly and wiped a tear on Dean’s face away with his thumb. “Do you remember the promise you made to me last night? The one about your tattoo?” Dean nodded slowly. “Don’t make me fly alone. Especially when you’re the one to finally give me wings.”

    Dean sucked in a breath. He made his decision. His hands pulled Cas toward him and their lips and bodies slotted together. The wet, salty tang of tears spiked their kiss, but neither seemed to care. Dean wrapped his arms tightly around Cas on instinct, willing him to stay forever and never leave. Cas pulled his head away slightly after a few moments, smiling.

   “Now, I’m pretty sure I promised you coffee and new sheets this morning,” he reminded Dean, wrapping a hand around to card through his hair.

   “I don’t know about the sheets,” Dean smirked. “I think these ones still have some use in them.”

   “Well, better get that use out of them, then.” Cas suggested before moving to leave open-mouth kisses on Dean’s jaw and neck. Dean closed his eyes and moaned at the sensation. The drugs made his pain go away, but heightened his sensitivity in a different way. Every touch sent tingles through his body, like the nerves were being woken up. Dean turned Cas around and pushed him down onto the bed before crawling on top of him. They kissed for several minutes, rutting and grinding together through their boxers.

    “Let me ride you,” Dean whispered into Cas’s ear, licking the underside. He let out a moan and thrust up, already imagining how good Dean would feel.

    “Fuck...Yes. Please,” Cas moaned, biting his bottom lip. His hands moved down Dean’s sides, fingers hooking under his boxers and pushing them down so that Dean’s ass was completely exposed. He brought one hand to Dean’s face and offered his fingers, which Dean took greedily, sucking and slicking them up. Cas whined a little at the technique, almost regretting not asking for Dean to suck him off first. Dean pulled off Cas’s fingers, mouth still open, looking up at Cas as spit dripped off them. If Cas could only remember one image for the rest of his life, it would be this. Dean’s eyes had a small strip of green surrounding a pool of black, his lips were slick with spit, bright red, and swollen from kissing. Under his freckles, Dean’s skin was flushed the exact right amount, and it took every ounce of self control Cas had to keep himself together. He brought his fingers back around and grabbed Dean’s ass with the other hand, pulling him closer and into a heated kiss. With Dean distracted, he inserted one finger easily, the muscles already stretched from the night before. Dean moaned into the kiss and pushed backward onto Cas’s fingers, his hole fluttering and begging for more.

   “Dean Winchester,” Cas chuckled as he slipped a second finger into Dean. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a cock slut.”

   “Don’t even pretend you hate it,” Dean leaned forward and bit Cas’s bottom lip, pulling it back a little before letting it go. Cas groaned and started to work a third finger in, crooking them a little to hit Dean’s prostate, causing Dean to impale himself on the fingers even further.

   “You ready, baby?” Cas breathed, pushing his fingers into Dean again.

   “Yes, God...Let me just...” Dean panted as Cas kept shoving into him with his fingers. “Cas! I’m gonna fucking...come on your fingers if you don’t let me get the...fucking lube and condom!” Cas grinned and pulled his fingers out, licking them and pushing his boxers down to stroke himself as Dean went to the nightstand. He moaned at the taste, causing his fist to move faster on his shaft.

   “Do you even realize how good you taste?” Cas asked as he licked in and around his knuckles. “I’m never gonna get sick of this.”

   “Good,” Dean reappeared, smiling as he climbed back onto Cas. He ripped open the condom package and rolled it onto Cas’s dick, stroking it a little as he did. Cas’s hips bucked up a pit, anticipating what was to come. Dean popped the cap of the lube and poured it onto the hand that was already stroking Cas to slick him up. He closed the cap then tossed it aside, moving to line himself up. Cas thrust up a bit, both gasping when his cock brushed against Dean’s hole.

    Dean lowered himself slowly, taking Cas as slow as he could, wanting to drag out the sensation. Cas had his head thrown back, fisting the sheets, and beading sweat on his forehead. When he finally bottomed out, Dean leaned forward, kissing Cas’s neck and down his chest.

    “Swear to god, if you don’t move, I’m going to buck you off,” Cas warned, panting from trying to control himself.

    “I’d like to see you try,” Dean teased, starting to move his hips up and down, slowly at first. He dug his fingertips into Cas’s chest, right over his tattoo, already finding the feeling overwhelming. Dean’s cock was bright red and steadily leaking precome, and he knew he wouldn’t last too long. As if Cas was reading his thoughts, he wrapped a hand around the base of Dean’s dick, squeezing to stave off his orgasm.

    “Not letting you get off that easy,” Cas panted, starting to thrust up into Dean. With every slam into him, Dean let out a cry that he was sure was waking every neighbor he had. Cas’s cock hit Dean’s sweet spot perfectly with every push, and he was sure he was going to pass out from orgasm denial.

    “Cas, please...” Dean moaned, almost going limp every time Cas pulled out, only to tense back up when he was thrust back into.

    “Okay...Okay, baby,” Cas let go of Dean and grabbed his hips instead. “Go ahead...Come on my cock...” Dean came with his lover’s name on his lips as Cas slammed into him once more, then keeping him there as Dean rode through his orgasm. The clenching and slight movement caused Cas to come soon after, crying out Dean’s name. He couldn’t control himself and trust up a couple more times into Dean’s limp form before letting him fall on him.

   Dean moved slightly, bringing up a hand and skimming a finger through the come he had coated their chests with. He brought it up to Cas’s mouth and it was accepted quickly. Cas let out another little moan at the taste and licked the finger clean.

   “Seriously. I’m going to bottle that and keep it in my desk,” Cas said as Dean rolled off him, laughing. “I’ll put it on my lunch, or just squirt it on my tongue straight every once in a while.”

   “You’re a pervert,” Dean slapped Cas’s chest as he walked over to the bathroom to grab a washcloth. “Actually, I don’t even think perverts keep cum in a bottle to use as salad dressing.”

   “Would it be easier for you to just cum on my salad?” Cas grinned as a washcloth hit his chest.

   “The bottle sounds less weird in comparison,” Dean put his boxers back on then threw on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. “So, coffee?”

   “Yes, sir,” Cas wiped himself off, then put the washcloth back in the sink. He slipped back into his clothes and went to grab his bag.

   “Leave it,” Dean said, walking over to Cas, who gave him a confused expression. “I was thinking, after coffee and sheets shopping, we could check you out of your hotel.” Dean smiled and grabbed Cas’s hand, leading him to the door.

   “But isn’t the tattoo going to take longer? I need someplace to sta--” the realization washed over Cas and he grinned, squeezing Dean’s hand a little tighter. Out on the sidewalk, he wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist then kissed his temple as they walked to their new favorite cafe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was supposed to be strictly a feels chapter, but OOPS PORN. I think it ended nicely though. ;D More will be coming to the series, so stay tuned on that front. Dean has to finish Cas's tattoo, after all. And what will happen when Cas has to go back home? Plus, SERIOUSLY, how DID Sam and Gabriel get together? The answers to this and much more when I get enough interest and encouragement! 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading, and you can check me out on tumblr as archangelsanonymous. :)


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